Cokes and Pizza and Mascara and High-Fives

“Write about a time when you got exactly what you wanted.”

Coke cans in the fridge and pizza boxes on table.
Young men who shake my hand when my sons introduce us.
Shoes piled by the front door.
Laughter echoing up from the basement.
Dogs who wait by the family room door because they know where the fun is happening.

It’s so much fun to love the kids – my own, and everybody else’s.
The friends’ of the boys, my boys and their friends.

I thought I would be the KoolAid mom, with kids in and out of my yard and my basement and my fridge and our bedrooms floors.  I am not that mom.

My house is not always full of kids, and when it is, I may or may not have had the forethought to stock the fridge and pantry for their hang at my house.  I have curfews and term limits and a policy of permission. I need more boundaries and an earlier bedtime  than anticipated. And yet, they agree to the terms. I get to be one of the moms they love.

The girls show me their manicures and they explain their color choices, and they know I will notice their mascara and its feathery perfection and precision.

The boys give me high-fives and they aren’t sure whether to call me Ms. Williford or Mrs. Heyer, and that’s such a fair thing to be unsure about.

I take them seriously, and they know I love them.
They know I love them.  

One of my guys said he enjoys one girl in particular because she reminds him of me. 

He said, “She’s like my mom.  I know that if a person comes to her hungry, they won’t be hungry when they leave.  She will make sure they are fed in every way.”

Well.  There you have it, folks.  That’s it.  We can call it a day.

When I hugged the boys goodbye to leave for their week at camp, they each kissed my forehead and called me Momma.  

“Love you, Momma,” they said, like they are proud that I am theirs.

So, write about a time when I got exactly what I wanted?
This.  This is exactly what I wanted.

I love them, and I love their friends.
They all belong to all of us.